


Pick me up or let me go

by The_Fic_Bot_TM



Series: Nick 'n Jack ['n Mac 'n Greg] [1]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Crossover Pairings, M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-09-26 19:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Fic_Bot_TM/pseuds/The_Fic_Bot_TM
Summary: What if Jack Dalton and Nick Stokes met at a bar?(Shameless porn is what happens)





	1. Chapter 1

"You look like girlfriend trouble." _Try a different G_, Nick thought grimly, but kept that to himself.

"I'm not here to make friends," he grumbled, without looking up. "Fair enough," the man who had approached him drawled and he expected him to just walk away after that. Instead he felt his presence linger beside him as he settled down on the stool next to his. He stayed silent but when Nick finished his beer another one was slid in front of him, a full bottle casually clinking against it, making him look up.

"Nick," he introduced himself and took a swig from the fresh cold bottle. "Jack," the man replied.

-.-.-.-

This wasn't like him, Nick thought, as the man - Jack - pressed him against the solid wall behind the pub. He wasn't drunk enough, he told himself before the sensation of a firm bulge pressing into his groin made it too hard to concentrate.

"I got a room nearby or would you rather finish this right here?" the gruff voice asked and Nick swallowed a groan in search of his own voice. He weighed his options. There was a trustworthy familiarity in Jack's eyes that he couldn't explain.

"Let's hail a cab."

He shouldn't. There were a hundred reasons why he shouldn't, he repeated like a mantra while Jack rubbed his hand discreetly up and down his leg, just outside their driver's field of vision.

He'd seen this hotel before, he had a feeling he'd seen _every_ hotel in Vegas by now, but he'd never been shoved down onto any of the beds in this place. He'd never watched his own reflection in the ceiling high windows, pants pulled down to his knees, a stranger's head hovering above his abs. He shouldn't.

"Damn," he ground out when Jack swallowed his pulsing cock, making obscene noises as he went. He gripped at the short cropped hair, fighting the urge to compare how different it felt from Greg's- _bad thoughts_, he cursed himself out loud, "fuck!"

Jack seemed encouraged by it and - what the hell - it helped shoving away the memories, so he went on with a whole repertoire of "holy shit, yeah, fuck, like that!" as a hand wrapped confidently around his balls, kneading and tugging, gripping him hard.

Pulling his head back, Jack cast a cocky grin up at him. "You up for somethin' more, pretty boy?" Nick stiffened at the implication. He didn't expect the other man to notice but the hand between his legs stilled. "Just a suggestion, hoss, don't sweat it."

Nick swallowed. A part of him suddenly _wanted_ it, now that the idea hung in the air between them. But he wasn't like that, was he? He'd never- not even with G... "I'm not," he started, hoping it was enough to convey what he couldn't make himself say.

"Tell you what," Jack stated casually, "I'll jus' go back to were I was 'n you can make up your mind, yeah?" If only it was that easy, Nick thought, truly torn between principles and urges. He felt strangely safe with this man he'd met barely an hour ago, he'd probably never see him again, what did he have to loose?

Jack pushed his shirt up and he hissed as a hot tongue licked and sucked his nipples. Before he could move further down Nick grabbed him by his cheeks and pulled him to eye level. "Fuck me."

His heart pounded wildly upon realizing what he'd just said. He became painfully aware of the arousal in his groin fading into fear until Jack's firm hand went to deftly stroke him back to full attention. "I got this," Jack said and Nick, despite himself, relaxed into his touch.

He got rid of his shirt and Jack followed suit, fumbling for a condom in his pocket before shedding his jeans, as well. Holding the wrapper up he offered Nick another out, "this' all I got, you sure you wanna go for it?" He wasn't.

"Roll over," Jack instructed. It struck Nick how insanely turned on he was, despite his trepidation. He'd never liked being led, ordered or overpowered. It had always been a sore spot in his relationship with- _stop it!_ he berated himself.

"You okay there?" Jack asked, hand on his right asscheek, dick pressed into his left. Nick mumbled distractedly, "'m good."

He tensed when he felt a spit-slick finger probing him. Jack bit his shoulder to avert his attention, then slowly slid the tip inside.

It didn't hurt, not really. Those broad, strong hands were unexpectedly tender as Jack unhurriedly worked his way deeper into him. Nick groaned at the sensation and reached his hand back over his shoulder to seek out the back of Jack's head. His hair was too short to tangle his fingers into but he dug them into his skin sharply, eliciting a hiss from the other man.

"There you go," Jack cooed into his neck when his finger was all the way inside. "Fuck, yeah," was all Nick could breathe out.

The stretch of the second finger was slightly uncomfortable, still Nick found himself moaning into the pillow. The soft hotel sheets slid enticingly against his painful erection, robbing him of breath and thought. On instinct he reached his free hand back to find Jack's own hard cock, stroking at a matching speed to the fingers inside of him. Jack groaned into his back, overwhelming Nick with how natural their connection seemed. His voice, his smell, his skin - it all felt intimately familiar.

Jack deliberately bent Nick's leg at an angle that would grant him better access, then slowly moved his palm up and down his thigh. Nick's breathing was almost frantic, same as his heartbeat, when he felt the head of Jack's hard-on demand entry. "I ain't gonna hurt you, hear me?" Jack drawled softly and Nick found himself trusting his words completely.

He did though, a little, but it was a kind of pain Nick thought he could get used to. A slow burn, almost pleasant - no, definitely pleasant.

He moaned as he felt Jack slide in deeper, arched back into the body that trapped him against the bed. Jack pushed himself up onto his arms, muscles flexing right beside Nick's face, framing him. "Whenever you're ready," he grunted, voice obviously strained with the exertion of holding back. "Move," Nick groaned, "holy fuck, move!" And Jack did. "Don't hold back," Nick panted, "don't stop! God, fuck!"

He swore he could see stars behind his eyes as Jack thrust into him at just the right angle, hard and fast.

"Ugh, fuck, baby, you feel so good, jesus Christ!" Jack babbled on, slurring the words together the faster he moved. Nick was so far gone he didn't even listen to the actual words, he just basked in the soothing noises of their loud panted breaths and the rough melody of Jack's voice. He came with a sudden bolt and an intensity that almost had him zone out. He was still shuddering when he felt Jack pulse and shoot into him before he collapsed onto his back.

-.-.-.-

What the hell were you thinking? Nick asked himself as he slowly came to his senses. He groaned under the weight of the man who'd just legitimately fucked him senseless. "Don't move," a muffled voice complained when he tried to pry himself out from underneath the slumped body. "Gotta... um... use the bathroom," he lied to the effect of making Jack lift reluctantly.

Staring in the mirror he splashed cold water on his face, then ran a weary hand over his cheeks. _What the hell_, he repeated quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe it wasn't a one time thing?

An hour spent at the gym didn't do much to clear his head so he stopped by the liquor store on his way home, stocking up with a six pack. Juggling his beer and gym bag he almost missed the envelope stuck under his door. He briefly considered taking it to the lab to run some tests on it but instead just ripped it open and read, 'don't think I'm some creepy kind of stalker but leaving like that was really rude. I thought we had something going there, call me if you like' signed Jack and a number. He nearly dropped his beer.

Slumping down on the couch he put his feet up on the coffee table right next to the handwritten note.

The first bottle didn't fix anything, his thoughts kept running around in circles. Two beers into watching a game and he still felt like he'd betrayed Greg, even if they'd long been done. Hell, he had even encouraged Greg to go out and date other people again. Three beers worth of staring at his phone made his head hurt worse than it had all day. A part of him wanted to call that number, inquire how Jack had found out his address and find out why, in spite of everything, he felt that he could trust the man. On his fourth bottle he knew he was in no shape to make a phone call so he opted for a text.

‘Sorry for leaving, how'd you know where to find me?’

The reply popped up before he'd even put the phone down.

‘Apology accepted’

He furrowed his brows and took another swig - not what he had expected. His phone signaled another text.

‘Don't wanna creep you out, sweet face, let’s just say I got my ways. You're not that hard to find. Just to be fair, if you ask nicely I'll tell you where to find me ;)’

-.-.-.-

He woke with a headache after merely three hours of sleep, the stale taste of beer still filthy on his tongue - and a new message on his phone. His heart beat wildly when he typed his reply.

It was a bad idea, he knew, but that didn't stop him from driving up to his favorite diner, smiling at the smug face that greeted him.

"Glad you could make it." He wasn't usually tongue-tied but his tired brain couldn't come up with anything witty to say so he just slid into a seat with an expectant smirk.

He wasn't sure what to make of this man. Everything he said seemed sketchy. What kind of a job was _a little bit'a this, a little bit'a that_? Still those eyes were nothing but honest. He bit his lips. Over the years he'd learned to be weary of people, expect the worst. He'd almost unlearned how to trust. But Jack - all smiles and charms and heavy accent - managed to worm himself through his defenses. Just like that. The only thing left for him to do was decide whether that was what he wanted.

The hand on his knee felt hot and daring and almost too much considering they were still at a diner, in plain view of a bunch of people. It also felt right. Good. Comforting.

"What?" Jack asked, wriggling his eyebrows in a way that would’ve looked ridiculous if his face wasn't so damn handsome and tempting. Nick smiled mischievously.

"I'm not in the mood for talkin'," he said, surprising himself. Without hesitation Jack pulled a twenty out to cover their breakfast and stood, "lead the way."

He didn't question why Jack's rental had tinted windows, he was just going to take advantage of the fact. Scrambling backwards he pulled him closer by the lapels of his heavy leather jacket as soon as Jack slammed the door closed behind them and crashed their lips together. Jack's kisses were mouthy, all tongue and teeth, while his hands roamed and groped at Nick in something akin to desperation. His own hands moved to the base of Jack's neck to keep him close as he kissed back with equal fervor.

When Jack's hand went brusquely to his groin Nick halted for a moment, then pushed him back. Jack raised a brow but didn't seem too fazed by it. Shuffling into a sitting position Nick mirrored the expression. Jack grinned, "What now, hot shot, don't want my magic after all?"

Nick huffed, suppressing an eye roll. This guy was ridiculous but something about his blunt attitude intrigued him. Well, two could play this game. With another shove he cornered Jack into the backseat and winked. "My turn."

He made quick work of Jack's belt buckle and tugged at it roughly before sliding the belt out through the loops. "Whoa, slow down, hoss," Jack exhorted, "you ain't gonna whip me up, are you?"

Nick enjoyed the look of doubtful apprehension on his face and grinned. "Not if you play nice," he drawled. Jack raised his hands and shrugged, smirking, "I'm always nice, man." Dropping the belt Nick caught his wrists and ground his whole upper body against Jack, engaging his lips in another heated kiss.

"Ooh, boy, you're damn good at this," Jack gushed between the clashing of teeth and tongues, making Nick bite down a snort by biting down on Jack's lower lip.

"Do you ever shut up?" he asked incredulously. "Nah, not really," Jack shrugged, "but feel free to try 'n make me."

Shoving Jack's hands further back above his head Nick sunk his head down to Jack's throat and sucked harshly on his skin, making him groan. Dropping his hand down to Jack's fly he felt his cock strain hard against the denim.

Maneuvering inside the car proved tricky, he had to release Jack's hands to reposition himself so he could free the man of his t-shirt and the tight restraints of his pants. Nick's teeth raked harshly across Jack's solid chest and he admired every muscle that flexed beneath his lips. With Jack's constant commentary washing over him he continued to map his way down impressively toned abs. Spurred on by the press of two strong hands on his head he let Jack guide him right to where he wanted him.

Nick let the tip of his tongue slide up and down Jack's full length. Pulsing with urgent heat he was tempted to take care of himself while blowing Jack thoroughly but he resolved he was going to need his hands elsewhere. He was also counting on Jack's counter performance if he gave him his full attention first.

An incessant stream of words endorsed him to push his own needs aside a while longer. He looked up at Jack's face, eyes closed, lips never quite still, and bent down to swallow his head.

With his hands on Jack's hips Nick settled into an easy rhythm of up and down motions. He noted smugly how Jack's sputtered instructions turned more incoherent the slower he went - not that he needed guidance - and Jack's hands took over, clutching hard, urging him to go faster instead. He wasn't having it.

Sinking down low he let Jack invade him deeply before pulling back, releasing him almost completely. He let his tongue swirl around in lazy circles before he slid back down to the very base.

Within minutes he had Jack reduced to a grunting, moaning mess who somehow still managed to babble on, "yes, baby, like that, right there, that's it, fuck, fuck yeah."

Nick grinned, as far as his occupied mouth allowed, and let his hands slide around Jack's thighs.

"Ooh, yeah, baby," Jack panted, grinding his hips up into Nick's face. Nick moaned, caught somewhere between mindlessly and painfully horny. He let his fingers inch forward eagerly, feeling their way between Jack's tensing ass cheeks. The throbbing between his own thighs became almost unbearable but he managed to push it aside by focusing on the intense satisfaction he derived from the way Jack sputtered over the edge when he pushed inside of him.

"Holy hell, dude!" Jack exclaimed after he'd scrambled for breath for a few seconds. Nick gave him a cocky grin and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah, man, that was impressive," he joked. Jack swatted his arm.

"You ain't seen impressive yet," he boasted, pulling him up by his shirt. Nick groaned in relief when he felt Jack's hand work his zipper open, releasing some of the aching pressure. Jack brought their lips together, swallowing Nick's moan as he wrapped him in his hand.

-.-.-.-

Nick let his head fall back onto the backrest and closed his eyes. He was positively spent and judging by the sound of Jack's heavy breathing so was he. After a while he cracked one eye open, grinning at the other man when he saw him doing just the same. He bumped his knee against Jack's as they gave each other a once over before breaking out in laughter.

Here they were, shirtless, pants down to mid-thigh, sprawled across the backseat in a sweaty mess. They made a pretty hot image, he presumed.

"When did you say you'd be back in Vegas again?" Nick asked, fastening his belt.

"I honestly can't tell you that. I'm pretty busy, man," Jack replied, fiddling with his own.

"Well, you got my number in case you're ever in the area again." Nick offered in a way he hoped sounded casual.

"Oh, I will be. This is Vegas, baby!" Jack winked.

"Seriously," Nick said with a serene expression, "call me." Jack smiled and brought their faces closer.

"Sure thing, sugar," he drawled, pulling him into a kiss.

Fully dressed Nick watched Jack struggle with his shirt in the confined space of the car. He huffed.

"What?"

"Nothin’… This just isn't like me." He wasn't even sure what he meant to tell him but Jack seemed to pick up on some underlying message.

"You still got your heart on someone, don't you?" Nick dropped his head. "I fucked a pretty good thing up," he sighed.

"I feel ya," Jack said with a slap on his knee.

"You do?"

Jack shrugged, "Sorta. I'm still debating the risks of fucking a perfectly good thing up."

It surprised Nick how easy it suddenly was to open up and share his long repressed emotions. Sure, he'd talked to Greg about their feelings, back when they were together, before everything went sour and his heart ached watching Greg at work, missing him in his bed, in his arms. Before talking with him felt stiff and uncomfortable, like they had estranged over night. Yet here was a virtual stranger whom taking to felt so familiar and natural that Nick found himself just spilling out his heart.

"I'm sorry, man, I didn't mean to unload all my bullshit on you," he said, even though Jack had done the same thing in return. Had told him about the partner he wasn't supposed to have feelings for and how he'd been running from that for years. How he'd deliberately pushed him away over and over, afraid of being found out. Jack took his hand and gently squeezed.

"I'm glad I bought you that beer the other day," he said, sounding every bit like he meant it. Nick smiled and squeezed back. "Me too."

When Jack dropped him off at home Nick felt light hearted. Despite having talked about Greg at length he hadn't actually been_ thinking_ about him, not while Jack's hands were all over his body, while his mouth was all over Jack's.

"Thanks," he nodded toward his house as if to just say 'for the ride' but really, he had a lot more he was thanking him for. They shared a hug that felt like a long time friendship and Nick pressed a parting kiss to Jack's lips.

"See you around?" he asked. Jack grinned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's undeniable chemistry but there's also still Mac and Greg.

"How was your weekend?" Greg asked a tad too casually, or maybe he'd just gotten sensitive. "Fine," he replied, as he fought down flashbacks of another man's hands on his body. He was still sore, to be honest - not that he was going to be honest with Greg.

"Couple drinks, TV, the usual," he fibbed, "you?" "I was on call, so no drinks for me," Greg sounded dejected, "spent half my day gaming." Nick huffed - another thing they used to fight about, now it seemed so benign. When had things gone so strained between them?

"I found hairs," Greg announced, crouching down to get a better view. "Looks like the roots are still attached, maybe the victim got a good grasp at their assailant's hair." Nick's eyes went to the back of Greg's head. In his mind the image of his hand pulling at it merged with the memory of clutching at Jack's short cropped scalp. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, berating himself to get his shit together. "You say something?" Greg asked and Nick turned away from him quickly. "No, nothin'."

He watched as Greg bent over to retrieve fibers from the rumpled bed sheets. God, how he missed that ass grinding into him. How he missed watching his hands tighten into the bead spread. His mind flashed back to his own fists twisting into smooth hotel linen. Dammit, this had to stop. With a sharp shake of his head he straightened up. "I'll take the bathoom." He didn't wait for Greg to respond. 

-.-.-.-

Jack didn’t call but two weeks later he texted a selfie from a beach bar somewhere in Mexico, a shot glass of tequila raised in a toast to the camera. Nick grinned as he typed a number of suggestive flatteries into his phone and didn’t have to wait long for a reply. _‘No picture? Don’t tell me you’re shy, hot shot’_

He thought about that not so subtle request for a very long time. His line of work had made him weary of sending personal images around - to anyone. And who was Jack anyway? He didn’t even know his last name.

-.-.-.-

"You're in a good mood," Greg observed when he found Nick humming over the evidence table, lifting fibers from a torn sweater. Nick wondered why it felt like an accusation. "I met someone," he shrugged casually, fishing for a reaction. A tight lipped "oh," was all Greg had to say. He sounded hurt and Nick instantly felt bad. "Nothin' serious," he quickly provided and looked away to avoid getting caught up in the distant look in Greg's eyes.

Greg was disconcertingly quiet throughout the entire shift. And the next. And the night after that.

"Something wrong?" Nick asked when he caught him alone in the locker room a few days later. "No, why?" Nick licked his lips in contemplation. He did want to confront Greg with his observation but wasn't sure he was ready for an honest conversation. "You been quiet," he eventually remarked. "You've been distant," Greg countered, closing his locker with a rather loud clang, "but I guess you've been too distracted to notice." With that he left.

-.-.-.-

Nick stared at his phone. To be more precise, he stared at a picture of Jack on his phone. Jack wearing yellow aviators and that cocky grin of his that had managed to attract Nick within the first ten seconds of talking to him.

_‘How’s it going?’_ he typed. It had been a few days and they had merely exchanged some playful banter with each other.

The answer came promptly, _‘Still waiting for that picture, pretty boy ;)’_

With a glance down his well worn sleep shirt and baggy sweat pants he grimaced disapprovingly. His mind made up, he sat and pulled the shirt off over his head with a giddy grin. _This was so not like him_, he thought for the umpteenth time since he’d met Jack and opened the camera on his phone to snap a bare-chested picture of himself.

What followed wasn’t exactly phone sex, but the closest thing Nick had ever allowed himself to that experience. A series of heated messages and suggestive promises for a possible next meeting had resulted in one of his more intense self love sessions. Nick blushed at the memory but couldn’t contain a smug grin from forming on his face when he drove to work that night.

-.-.-.-

Avoiding Greg wasn't an active decision but more of a mutual unspoken agreement. He did long to reach out but the way Greg refused to let any kind of conversation go beyond strictly professional exchange made him feel hollow and he preferred not to be alone with Greg for the sake of self preservation. 

-.-.-.-

_‘I told him’_ Nick instantly knew what Jack was referring to. _‘Is that good or bad?’_ he asked. _‘Not sure to be honest. He said it’s a lot to process… wasn’t a ‘no’ I guess’_

Nick smiled grimly as he read Jack’s text. Memories of how he’d confessed his feelings to Greg immediately resurfaced. He felt for the guy. Although he guessed he’d been luckier, in his case Greg had been the first to spill his beans and therefore had embraced his words eagerly and full of excitement. Greg's grin in that very moment had been edged to his mind ever since.

His smile faded slowly, as he realized how long ago the memory had been. The more recent images of him were much less cheerful - his features hardened, his clothes darker, and worst of all his eyes sullen and always clouded somehow. Nick hated to think he was the one who had caused this change.

Breaking up had been a mutual decision though, he reminded himself.

The pop of a new message startled him, _‘I’m sorry’ ‘For what?’_ he wrote back. _‘I don’t know, I feel like I’ve been leading you on. Don’t get me wrong, this is great! I don’t regret a thing, I’m serious about meeting you and all but this thing with him…’_ the message stopped mid-thought but Nick understood. _‘I get it, man. No hard feelings, promise. If anything I’m rooting for this thing to work out with you and him.’_

In spite of everything they hadn’t yet exchanged the names of the men they were respectively hung up on. _‘Thanks’_ Nick read with a half-smile on his face.

-.-.-.-

When he woke with a sting in his eyes and the taste of unbrushed teeth in his mouth he cursed himself for his self destructive behavior. The text exchange with Jack had stirred up a lot of buried memories and instead of getting a sufficient amount of sleep he had spent his bedtime opening a bottle of beer and old pictures on his phone. Pictures of Greg grinning goofily, sticking out his tongue, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Pictures of himself, arm stretched out to snap shots of him pressing his cheek close to Greg’s, matching smiles on both their faces. A secretly taken shot of Greg’s ass, with Greg lying on his stomach, completely engrossed in a video game.

He really had to stop drinking alone. It wasn’t yet a habit, but it had happened more often than he deemed healthy. Now he paid the price, as he stumbled into the bathroom, tired and on the verge of a hangover, desperately craving coffee and the comfort of his bed.

-.-.-.-

Greg was of course the first person he ran into when he arrived at work. “You look like shit,” he greeted without sympathy. “Thanks, doll. You’re pretty as ever,” he bit back. Greg shook his head and let it slide. Just a couple of months ago his reaction would have been a shy blush, Nick imagined, or a smug grin and maybe even a flirtatious remark and a wink. His heart felt heavy when he watched Greg sluggishly walk away from him. He truly hoped that Jack was faring better than him, even if it would mean never hooking up with him again. He’d still have a friend in him, of that he was sure.

[[For those who want a more detailed version of the 'phone sex']](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651363)

[[For those who wonder how that conversation between Jack and Mac went]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20666096)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mending old wounds and moving on

“I’m sorry,” Nick blurted as soon as the door to Greg’s apartment opened. “Um, okay?” Greg looked a little confused but didn’t prompt Nick to continue. Instead he crossed his arms and waited.

“Are you gonna let me in?” Nick asked, unwilling to have this conversation in the hallway. Greg shuffled around in his socked feet and looked at the floor. “Actually, I haven’t cleaned,” he said defensively. Nick smiled – of course he hadn’t. “I don’t care, I just have some things to get off my chest and I don’t know if I’ll still have the courage tomorrow.

Greg frowned but stepped aside and let Nick follow him in. “You said you were sorry?” He inquired, cutting right to the chase. “Uh, yeah,” Nick said, shoving some magazines to the side so he’d have room to sit on his usual spot on the couch. Not _his_ spot anymore, he reminded himself.

“For what?” Greg asked when Nick didn’t elaborate. Taking a deep breath and releasing it in a lengthy sigh, Nick looked up at Greg. “For a lot of things,” he started, in a voice weary and defeated, “most of all I’m sorry for being so distant with you.” He broke eye contact and focused on his hands fidgeting in his lap before he continued, “I just didn’t know how to behave around you, how to talk to you… if you even still want to talk to me?” He raised his voice in a question, waiting for a reaction from Greg. Looking up he saw him shrug his shoulder. “Things have been so shitty lately,” Nick went on, “and I’m sorry for the way things ended between us and that we never really talked about it.”

“We’re both to blame for that,” Greg said, pressing his lips together. “Yeah?” Nick hadn’t expected that. “I had a feeling you blamed me for the most part.” Shrugging again Greg offered him a one sided smile. “I probably did, doesn’t mean I was right.”

With a slow nod he let that sink in for a while. “Look G,” he continued in a soft voice, “the reason I’m here is that I… I miss you. The way we’ve been _before_, you know?” Greg hummed quietly. “I don’t wanna lose you as a friend,” Nick stated, licking his lips.

“Me neither,” Greg admitted in barely a whisper.

There was still a lot of anger somewhere inside of him, stemmed from a lot of hurt. He couldn’t hide it and Nick figured he shouldn’t have to.

“It’ll take time,” Greg said in a serious tone but the words made Nick feel hopeful nonetheless.

-.-.-.-

FLASH FORWARD: LA, ROUGHLY A YEAR LATER

“Thanks, man!” Clinking their bottles together Jack grinned broadly at Nick who shot him a conspiratory look in return.

They both took swigs from their beers before reclining back into their deck chairs, eyes on the two men who sat with their backs to them in front of the fire, deeply engaged in excited chatter. Greg was gesticulating wildly with his hands while Mac laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Two peas in a pod, huh?” Nick commented with a fond smile on his face.

“Us or them?” Jack teased, making Nick laugh and bring his eyes back up to Jack's face. Reminiscing on the memory of how they’d first met and how close they had grown in spite of the physical distance between them, he let a surge of warmth pass through him that manifested itself on his face.

“Both,” he stated happily.


End file.
